The Worse Virus Isn’t COVID-19

There’s a virulence in the United States that is far more pervasive, frightening and in need of a cure that any medical condition, threat or infection.

It’s called prejudice. Dictionary.com defines it: an unfavorable opinion or feeling formed beforehand or without knowledge, thought, or reason.

It’s been around for so long — longer than I’ve been alive — that it almost eludes most of us who enjoy what’s come to be called “white privilege.” I take it for granted because, well . . . I’m white!

Some of my earliest memories involve discussions in our home about how wrong it is to prejudge people — regardless of race, gender, political beliefs — or any other parameter. Because of my Dad’s job, we met people from all over the world. We were exposed to other cultures. We learned origami from a Japanese businessman who visited our home when I was very young. My mom taught adults to read — I distinctly remember one black man who beamed when meeting a milestone the times I accompanied her to the tutoring sessions.

I’m not saying my parents were activists. They didn’t need to be “out there” and visible. They quietly lived their lives, rearing their children to be good human beings, foot washers, literacy teaching, with an open home for two pre-teen foster children even though there were already 5 biological children, practicing radical hospitality, and hoping for a better world. They allowed/encouraged us to be activists even with hesitation for our safety.

I’m blessed to have met and married a man who held the same world view. With me we reared our children to look beyond the surface — to judge others by their actions, but forgive them because we don’t know the back story. We taught them not to tolerate hatred and cruelty. Our home has always been open and we have offered, often times only a little, what we had. We celebrate other cultures and I am proud to have lived out in my lifetime, the Jesus-like love my parents taught us.

But there is this thing that I am facing now. I don’t know that I need to apologize for it exactly, because it’s not of my making. It’s a matter of my genetics and heritage. White privilege isn’t something I consciously take advantage of, or honestly often even think about, until something like the current black man is killed by white police officers. Again. And Again. And Again.

It breaks my heart. And it’s so heavy. I don’t know what to do about it. I thought I was “living right.” And I think I am. Is there more that I can do? Is there more I should do?

I vote responsibly. I practice radical hospitality. I speak the truth in love. I pour into others. I pray. A lot. All the time.

This is not a virus that can be cured with a vaccine. It’s one that is going to take fundamental and drastic change. How do you change a person’s heart and mind, opinion and world view? It’s a virus that has infected us since we killed indigenous people to take their land for ourselves and hunted down and enslaved African men, women and children to work in our fields, homes and turn them into property.

I don’t get “annoyed” hearing about it from black commentators and activists and friends. I get sad. I don’t get tired of hearing about how things need to change. I get tired of the need to have the conversation over and over again. I get overwhelmed when I think about what needs to happen, about how a radical change needs to wash over our country, realizing it’s unlikely to happen because of systems established that enrich the privileged. Laws written to suppress and physically and psychologically keep people poor.

I don’t want to wring my hands and shake my head and just go on with my life. I want to be the change that needs to take place. I want to make change happen. I want to believe that people are, at their core, decent and good.

In the end, I commit to keep living as I have. Vote. Pray. Vote. Pray. And keep practicing that radical hospitality that has seeped into my being. Love. Vote. Pray. I guess that is a lot when you stop to think about it! That’s what I can do!

LOVE. VOTE. PRAY.

You can find me on line: linktr.ee/themarymoss